


Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks

by KiraNightshade44



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Complete, Crack Treated Seriously, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Geeks in Love, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Supposed to be a oneshot but here we go again, Voyeurism, good boy ben
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:28:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiraNightshade44/pseuds/KiraNightshade44
Summary: Technically, this is a felony. It’s rude and creepy. Absolutely creepy. Not proper roommate decorum at all. Rey really doesn’t mean to listen. Really, really. But when she hears the telling slap of skin against skin, and then after, when Ben makes a pained moan with such feverish need that she almost whimpers herself -Yes.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Armitage Hux, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 34
Kudos: 191





	1. Really, Accidentally, Yes

**Author's Note:**

> Okay this was really, really supposed to be a oneshot, but somehow this story found a little plot to go along with the smut. Will be a short-fic, probably only four chapters or so. 
> 
> Sorry about the delays in updates this week - real life stuff came up, as it does, but now I am back! Hoping to update JLH by the end of this weekend :D

Rey doesn’t mean to walk into the house at precisely the wrong moment. 

Later on, when the insanity of the entire situation cools off and she can (somewhat) breathe normally again, she blames it on exhaustion. She had back to back classes this morning - Thermodynamics, then Elements of Aeronautics, and lastly, CAD and Aircraft Components. Her brain is mush, her back is sore from lugging around a million textbooks that are heavy enough to take out a Boeing 747 in their own right, and she just wants a long, uninterrupted nap after stuffing her face with about two pounds of ramen. 

She cannot be blamed, she will later reason with herself, for the fact that she does not immediately understand the sounds she is hearing from Ben’s bedroom. She missed him at class today and she is about to knock on his door to ask him why he skipped class (which he _never_ has, as far as she knows) when she hears what sounds unmistakably much like her roommate _grunting_ in a very low and very not-Ben fashion. 

Nor can she be blamed for pausing outside his door with her hand outstretched to the doorknob, then staggering backwards a step (okay, maybe two steps), _then_ doing a double-take of Ben’s closed bedroom door. 

She definitely does not mean to press her ear to the polished wood because _surely_ she is not hearing what she very much thinks she is hearing. 

And she really, _really_ doesn’t mean to linger even after she figures it out. 

Because it does not take a rocket scientist to know what’s happening in there (which should be knee-slappingly hilarious because both Rey and Ben are in their first year of aeronautical mechanics, so _technically_ …)

Technically, this is a felony. 

It’s rude and creepy. Absolutely creepy. Not proper roommate decorum at all. Rey really doesn’t _mean_ to listen. Really, _really_. But when she hears the telling slap of skin against skin, and then after, when Ben makes a pained moan with such feverish need that she almost whimpers herself - 

_Yes_. 

She knows this is wrong. That this is an egregious breach of privacy. That if it was Ben listening outside her door, she would be furious with him (though a small voice in the back of her somehow doubts that very much). 

Despite all these facts, which are all lined up in a neat little row in her head, she can’t imagine walking away. Not for one fucking second. 

Even through the thick wood of the door, Rey can hear the way the slapping sound picks up. So does Ben’s breathing; all hot and heavy. At least, that is how she imagines it would be. His mouth pressed into her skin, her throat, her lips - that hot, luscious drag of air exhaled on her sweaty skin. 

Is he naked in there? Showing off a body that she has only ever seen hints of through his enormous and seemingly never-ending collection of black hoodies. Are his abs and chest slick with sweat? Is his ever-loving _perfect_ hair all tousled and messy rather than styled in his usual artful wave even though she has never once found a single bottle of hair product on his side of the bathroom cabinet? Are his feet planted on the mattress, those massive thighs quivering and his hips _bucking_ up to meet the furious rhythm of his hand?

And his cock? What of that? 

Rey bets he is proportionate. That the mumbling, somber and painfully fuckable redwood she has been secretly harbouring a crush on since - god - _forever_ is quite proportionate to his lumbering height. That his cock would stretch her out to just this side of discomfort, filling her until there is no space left for anything else. 

She stifles a small moan into her arm and does not commit the ultimate act of creepiness by slinking a hand down her shorts and into her panties to give herself some relief. Because if she did _that_ then there would be no going back. 

Even though she knows she is fucked anyways. She has been for quite some time now. 

Rey can’t stop imagining him in there, as she listens to the slapping sounds grow faster, headier from this side of his bedroom door. She imagines his lips pressed against her throat as he breathes her in, as he pumps his hips into her harder and _faster,_ until they are nothing but friction and sensation, nothing except stars going supernova, disintegrating into a thousand tiny pieces that come back together, where they fall into some unreturnable event horizon, strained and pressed together lovely, all sweat and blood and huffs of needy air -

Rey hears it the moment Ben comes. She can tell he has muffled his voice against something - perhaps his forearm, or a pillow - but she can still hear him quite well through the door. 

And she just stands there, for an untold amount of time. In complete and utter shock. 

“ _Mmmf-fuck… yes, baby. Oh god… Rey...”_

Her eyes practically bug out of her head. Because Ben just said _her_ name. He _came_ to her, while she stood out here and listened to it. To _him_.

Rey shuffles on her feet, her thighs rubbing together and her heart beating furiously fast. She does not think about this small movement or the fact that the house they are renting together, with their upstairs roommates Armie, Poe and Finn, is about a hundred years old. The pipes gurgle in the middle of the night for no reason, the doors close due to a draft they cannot seem to rid themselves of and despite a failed attempt at a seance (involving some questionable homemade wine and Armie claiming he was an expert on the subject of all things paranormal) they had summoned no ghosts, nor gotten any closer to understanding why this creepy old house did the things it did. 

And in her narrow minded focus on the pulsing heat between her legs and the sounds of Ben catching his breath in his bedroom, she _completely_ forgets the aged floorboards as well. 

Because that small act of shuffling is immediately followed by a loud _creak_ under her feet - loud enough that the next-door neighbours can probably hear it. 

Rey freezes up, her heart jumping somewhere in the vicinity of her throat, but the damage is already done. It goes suspiciously silent in Ben’s bedroom. Not a single bedspring squeaks, nor can she hear him so much as breathing in there. 

Suddenly, it becomes very important for her to leave this spot. If he ever found out she _listened_ to him - god, she cannot even imagine the embarrassment. She goes to her room, floorboards creaking and giving her away for the total pervert she is, and when she closes the door behind her as quietly as possible, she leans against it, panting for air like she just ran in one of Finn’s stupid triathlons that he makes them all compete in every fall. 

Furtive and more than a little guilty, she slips a hand down her pants and into her underwear, trying very hard to pretend that she did not just breach her roommate’s privacy by listening to him jerk off. It remains silent out in the hallway and she sags in relief, though she can’t decide if it’s because she might have just gotten away with her indiscretion, or because she is finally touching her aching clit. 

And soon, in all her pretending, she imagines that she _had_ opened the door, that she had the balls to go to him. That it was her hand, her mouth, her _pussy_ that made him come. 

It takes her no time at all to find her own end. 

*

Rey remembers the day they all moved in together. She and her boys, as she is fond of calling them. That warm September day, cars honking on the busy Brooklyn streets, and students filling up the residencies scattered across the small, quaint neighbourhood. 

That was the day she met Ben Solo. The day her life began to change in ways she could not have possibly foreseen. 

She had gotten her things in the house early, long before any of the others had shown up - what little she had to bring with her from the foster home, that is. A dresser that was on its last legs (pun intended), a bed that was less a bed and more like a foam pad on the floor (quite literally, at that), a beat-up laptop and some clothes. That was it. 

She had not met the boys in person yet - all of their conversations had occurred online, through the student residency portal. She had gotten a sense that they all knew each other, though, which made her distinctly nervous. Would this be a frathouse situation? Because she did not want to play the house mom.

Still, she had remained hopeful that it would turn out alright. They had certainly _seemed_ nice online - particularly Finn. In foster care, she had always preferred living with boys. While they might be messier and generally rowdier, she had always gotten on better with males than females. And they usually left her the hell alone, which was how she preferred it. 

What Rey could not have possibly known was that she would become best friends with all four of them. That they would become a family, of sorts. 

It happened in small ways at first; commonalities that were coincidentally strange and frankly, hard for her to believe. 

Poe loves all the same foods she does, which is to say _all_ foods. Together, they have sampled some of the more exotic types of cuisine. Once, when they all went to a French restaurant in Manhatten, she and Poe had ordered escargot and chocolate-dipped crickets - much to the fascinated disgust of the others. 

Armie and Rey are both from the UK originally - in fact, they had only lived a few blocks apart from each other as children and never knew it. Whenever Rey needs fashion advice, or to bitchily pick apart someone she doesn’t like (like her physics professor last term), he is her man. 

Finn and Rey share the same sense of humour, the same taste in men, the same taste in music, and generally (as is agreed upon by the entire household) have always been destined to become “friendmates” which is really just another way of saying they are so alike it is almost creepy. Together, they have designed and tested many alcoholic concoctions. One night in February, in a fit of drunken mischief that was not at all atypical of how they spent most weekends when not cramming for exams, the two of them had put on an Ariana Grande album, weaved Christmas lights into Rey’s hair and over the course of the evening, created the all-time memorable “R&F Fool’s Blight” as Armie dubbed it; a combination of grape juice, vodka, fireball whiskey, Tequila Bang-Bang and an unknown bottle of alcohol they found stashed in the upstairs toilet tank from the previous tenants. The brew made everyone vomit purple the next day and almost put Poe in the hospital with alcohol poisoning. Oops. 

And then, there is Ben. 

It had taken her far longer to root out what they had in common, simply because Ben is quiet. The antithesis of quiet, actually. Not shy, necessarily (he’s certainly not shy about giving her shit when she uses all the hot water in their bathroom, or when he has to clean her hair out of the drain) but unerringly quiet all the same. Finn likes to call Ben a basset hound and Armie likes to call him “a rudely large man” and a “brooding mountain”, among many other colourful descriptors. Poe and Ben have known each other the longest and argue the most often, though Rey happens to know that Ben let Poe live with him when they were teenagers on account of Poe’s father having a massive drinking problem for much of his childhood. 

Rey does not have any nicknames for Ben because she knows he hates them all - complimentary or not. His kindness is not shouted from rooftops or bragged about over social media. He is silently generous, intensely private with his emotions, unmovingly loyal, obtusely judgmental and critical, and utterly and maddeningly _stubborn_. God, is that man stubborn. 

But they both are, really. That was the first thing she discovered they had in common. 

They’re also in the exact same program, hoping to one day explore the endless bounds of space. They like the same cereal (Captain Crunch, thank you very much), they have a secret weakness for 70s and 80s horror movies, they both prefer the second sequel in pretty much any and all science-fiction trilogies, and they will fiercely debate about politics any time of day when the others cannot stand to discuss it for longer than five seconds. They like _Harry Potter_ better than _The Lord of the Rings_ and they are both irrefutably and qualifiably _geeks_ by basically all standards set out by Poe, Finn, and Armie. 

Rey wears that honour proudly, while Ben suffers it silently. 

Those are the small ways in which Rey has come to love and appreciate her boys. 

Over time, though, that friendship has expanded to larger things. 

Like when Finn’s boyfriend broke up with him and they all decided to have a _RuPaul’s Drag Race_ night (Ben even let Armie put eyeshadow on him, though Rey suspects to this day that was more due to the fact that she asked him to do it than for any other reason). 

One time, Poe and Armie argued so badly, that Rey became terrified that was it. They would break up and their perfect, idyllic little family would be broken. Only then, Ben had silently gone out at three in the morning, searching the pubs for Poe. He returned just an hour later with him, quietly depositing Poe in the bedroom he shared with Armie. 

The next morning, the fight was over, and everything was fine again. 

Rey still has no idea what Ben said to him to make him come back and she suspects he will never tell a soul, not even under pain of death. 

And there is, of course, the way the boys take care of her, too. 

Over the course of their year together as roommates, the boys have surreptitiously gotten her things to fill the empty space in her room, all without her knowledge and despite her many protests that they did not have to do such things. Their charity gravely embarrassed her at first, before she realized it was not charity at all. 

They simply cared about her too much. And after a while, she made her peace with that because it was the same for her too. 

One day, a new dresser had mysteriously appeared in her room, fully assembled. On a weekend in November, after Rey had returned from the funeral of her foster mother, with rain in her hair and her eyes red and hollow with grief, she walked into her bedroom to discover pristine white shelves installed on the walls and a brand new bed frame, with a new mattress to boot. 

She could never get it out of her boys who had made all these purchases. To this day, she suspects it was all four of them, though she cannot for the life of her picture either Poe or Armie assembling Ikea furniture and not killing each other. 

On the day she first met them all, the day they moved into together and her four boys created a space for themselves in the once cold and barren wasteland of her heart, she had not known what to make of them at first, to be fully honest. 

Finn, Poe, and Armie had shown up first, with a moving truck late in the afternoon. She and Finn hit it off almost immediately, like they had been friends for years. Poe had offended her within the first five minutes of them meeting, only for Finn to quietly murmur to her, “He grows on you.”

“Like fungus,” a nasally English voice had chimed in. When she had turned to find a pasty, slightly underweight redhead attempting to arm wrestle a recliner through the kitchen door, she had taken over hauling the chair inside within approximately ten seconds. 

Armie, she would discover over the course of the year they all lived together, is a lazy ass, but he means well. Most of the time. 

Rey, never one to shirk away chores, had set to helping the three men move in that afternoon. They had gotten about halfway through before Poe brought out a very old and very dusty bottle of whiskey. It had not taken any of them much convincing to take a little break with Jack Daniels, though that “little” break turned into hours of exchanging stories and getting pleasantly wasted. 

It was perhaps an hour later when her fourth and final roommate had discovered them in the living room. 

Sitting on an assortment of lawn furniture and laughing hysterically, they did not notice Ben enter the room right away. Poe was in the middle of an eerily accurate impression of Inigo Montoya. They were too drunk to be able to formulate full sentences by that point, let alone notice the presence of a tall redwood of the man at the threshold of the living room. 

“...prepare to die!” Poe had shouted, wielding an old mop. He spun around, gesturing wildly with the mop until -

_THWACK!_

Poe had struck a hapless and stonecold sober Ben Solo directly in the nose. If Rey thinks about it hard enough, she can still hear the _crack_ his nose made when the mop broke it, which was how the five of them ended spending their first night together as roommates - in the ER room at Brooklyn’s busiest hospital. 

“Shouldn’t he tilt his head back?”

“No, you moron. That’s how you choke on your own blood.”

“That’s what they do in the movies.”

“What program are you in again? Oh, that’s right - bio-med. Remind me to never sign up as a practice patient for you.”

“You know you guys can leave now. It’s going to be a long wait and -”

“Sorry I broke your nose, Solo. Though it is kind of hard to miss, so technically, it’s not my fault.”

“- this really isn’t... necessary.” 

“ _Poe_!”

“The love of my life, ladies and gentleman. A perfect wanker.”

“What? Solo knows I kid. Practically brothers, the two of us. Grew up on the same block our entire childhood.”

“Oooooo, so do you all know each other, then?”

“Went to the same high school. Couldn’t bear to be parted apparently.”

“ _Really_ , you can all go now. I’ll be fine here.”

“Fuck no. We’re not leaving Benjamin here all on his lonesome. Oh, Armie, tell Rey the story of that time we all went skinny dipping in his pool and Ben got so hammered, he got his hand stuck in the skimmer. Had to call the fire department that time, remember?”

“So glad you’re all here.” Ben aimed a sullen glare at each of them in turn, but when he got to Rey, he swallowed and quickly looked away. “Isn’t there a limit of how many people can be in here?”

He had already been sporting a pair of nasty looking black eyes and was about as happy to have the company of his four wildly intoxicated roommates in his hospital room as one could expect. He had pouted the entire Uber ride over, though he probably couldn't be blamed for that. 

Rey remembers that most clearly; those plush lips slightly downturned and how pathetic he had looked with white tissue sticking out of his bloody nostrils. His hoodie had the International Space Station on it and the back proclaimed, “That’s no moon. It’s a space station.”

“I like your hoodie,” she offered to him with a friendly smile. 

Ben glanced at her, flushed, and then looked away. It had been her first clue that he was in the same program as her and that, just _maybe_ , he might like her. 

It was also her first clue that she might be a teensy weensy bit knackered for him as well. 

Geeky hoodie, black eyes, and all. 


	2. Trouble Will Find Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Then, the most delicious question of all occurs to her and she has to bite her lips from emitting some kind of sound because - it can’t be possible. Can it?
> 
> What if Ben had heard her - and he kept at it anyway? What if he had known she could hear him? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really tried to throw in as many John Oliver quotes as possible. Bless that man.
> 
> *** Okay so I have made some minor edits and reposted. Mostly because I rushed to get this out last night and was not as thorough as I would have liked. No plot points have changed, just grammar and flow. :)

“Listen, you irredeemable steer. My milk clearly had my name written on it. In Sharpie, mind you. I don’t know why you would use it, anyway. Don’t you prefer that nut juice you get from that overpriced yuppy market?”

“Does anyone else hear that?” 

Rey peers up from her cereal to briefly meet Ben’s gaze. She quickly looks away. All she can picture in her head now is the face he might have made when he came yesterday. When he said her name. 

Also, it should be criminal for him to wear a henley to the breakfast table. She is far too sleepy to formulate a proper defence against the clear definition of his shoulders and arms, though it is nice to see him wearing something that isn’t a hoodie. His hair is unkempt too. Bedhead, all rumpled, with a small curl hanging over his temple and… 

That was probably how his hair looked yesterday, too. When he...

It takes great effort for Rey to derail the direction of her thoughts. It also takes her exactly two seconds to come to the very scientific and fact-based conclusion that she is so _fucked_ . For him, for his hair and his stupid henley and his massive arms, and god, Armie is right, Ben _is_ a menacing obstacle. 

One that she can’t seem to get out of her head. 

“What - the indignant hen squawking in the middle of our kitchen?” Finn replies when it becomes clear Rey will not. Armie scowls but Finn only tips him a coy smirk. “Yeah, I can hear that just fine, thank you. It’s too early in the morning for you to be bitching so much Armie. Especially when you have a man sharing your bed who - from what I hear through the walls at all hours of the night - gives impeccable blowjobs.”

“Oh, we can hear it through the floorboards too? Right Rey?” 

Almost unwillingly, Rey peers up at Ben and makes a sound that she supposes is meant to represent a chuckle, but rather sounds a lot like a donkey getting goosed where the goosing is good. 

Ben gives her a quick searching look before Finn elbows him and draws his attention away from her. The two men share a conspiratorial smirk and although that expression is nothing new from Finn, it certainly is from Ben. He keeps trying to draw her into their conversations too, which is definitely unfamiliar territory. It is usually _her_ doing that to _him_ , not the other way around. 

Ben is positively _chipper_ this morning, which is just plain weird. 

But definitely not arousing, Rey tells herself. Nope. No sir. When Ben flashes her a barely-there smile, she absolutely does not get a little wet. 

One thing she _can_ confirm, though, is that she is fucked. Completely and definitively. Because she _is_ wet - from just a fucking smile and a tiny one at best - and she knows that if she was alone right now, she would be sliding two fingers inside her, crooking them right against that sweet spongy spot inside her. Right where she imagines Ben’s cock would slide against. Then, she would come, probably only within a handful of thrusts, and when the end came, she would cry out Ben’s name, picturing _his_ fingers inside of her instead of her own. 

Fuck. They’re just having breakfast and already she can stop thinking about what those large and fuckable fingers of his are capable of besides grasping a spoon. 

“I see,” Armie says to the boys airily, effectively dousing Rey’s inner dialogue and returning her to the present. Right, they are having a normal morning, with normal banter and normal - yes, just normal everything. Armie plops on the barstool next to Rey and shakes his head. “Well, the next time you buy your disgusting nut juice -”

“For the last time, it’s _almond milk_.” Ben gives Hux a disgruntled look for good measure, which of course, goes completely unnoticed. 

“- I’m going to pour it down the sink. Or maybe I’ll just refill the carton with Rey and Finn’s Fool’s Blight. See how you like puking your intestines out again, Solo.”

“It wasn’t that bad!” Finn and Rey exclaim at the same time. She blushes scarlet when Ben glances up at her with the tiniest consoling smile because _yes_ , the drink was most certainly that bad. But he’d never say so to her. 

“Our dynamic duo of dipshits nearly killed us all with that hogwash. But _nooooo_ it wasn’t _that_ bad.” Hux regards his cereal with a haughty sniff and digs in. 

“Wow, someone really has a stick up their ass this morning, don’t they?” Finn remarks with a raised eyebrow. 

“No blowjobs last night then?” Ben remarks. 

Rey blushes again, though it is for an entirely different reason. Suddenly, all she can think about is crawling under the breakfast table when no one is looking and yanking down Ben’s sweatpants - the very same sweatpants she usually ogles his ass in - and then sliding his cock out of his underwear to give it an experimental - 

“Actually no, now that you mention it,” Armie snaps.

Finn and Ben give each an "I-told-you-so" look while Armie isn't paying attention and again, Rey is struck by just how _perky_ Ben is acting this morning.

Armie heaves a sigh like he is the most put upon human being in the history of humanity. “Poe had an upset stomach last night and…”

But Rey has already tuned out their conversation. She is slowly remembering how to breathe normally again now that Ben isn't aiming one of his utterly out of character smiles at her. Those smiles should be illegal too, right up there with henleys, for the mere fact that they turn her brain to mush. Wow. She really, _really_ needs to stop it. And someone also needs to really, _really_ open a goddamned window in here. She is burning up, cheeks red, chest flushed and…

Yep. She is irrefutably wet now. Great. 

Rey glances at Ben again, almost like she is afraid he somehow overheard this errant thought, only for her heart to skip a beat. 

He is already looking at her. Or, more accurately, at her chest. 

She pauses in bringing the spoon to her mouth, her hazel eyes wide with surprise. Nope, she is not going insane; his gaze is pointedly aimed at her chest. She is wearing her favourite sleep shirt, a navy blue tank that falls to her knees. The shirt has a low hanging collar and is thin from so many washes. Her bedroom gets unbearably hot in the winter. Baseboard heaters are not exactly great at heating a room proportionately. Thankfully, she remembered to put a bra on before coming out for breakfast, but that doesn’t seem to matter. 

Ben seems fixated on the redness splashed across her chest. Freckles speckling blush-stained skin, all the way up to her throat. His gaze lingers, probably for far longer than is deemed to be normal or coincidental. Or friendly, for that matter. 

Then, his eyes suddenly snap up to hers, like he can feel her looking at him, she sees a hint of that smirk from him again and almost drops her spoon. 

Does he… He _can’t_ know. 

But does he?

Ben has been acting normal since yesterday - well, not _entirely_ normal, she supposes. He has been overly friendly all morning, sociable and that _smirk_ \- yeah, those things are not normal Benjamin Solo behaviours. 

Though, not in the _I-know-you-eavesdropped-on-me-tugging-on-my-willy-yesterday_ category either. Just - out of character. For him. 

As they stare at each other from across the table, heedless of the animated conversation going on between Finn and Armie, in a fit of guilt and paranoia she can’t help but wonder if he can somehow see the truth written on her face. If he knows exactly what happened yesterday when she got home from classes.

His gaze flickers away from her when Armie asks him a question about - well, something or another. Rey is far too preoccupied with her own panicky thoughts to pay attention to their inane conversation anymore. She can only picture the ensuing confrontation if Ben _does_ know; the accusations and anger over such a breach of privacy. And what would she say in defence?

_I was so tired, I didn’t know what I was hearing. Then, when I did figure it out, I eavesdropped on you wanking it off for scientific study. No biggy. Just your friendly, neighbourhood pervert!_

Rey fights back a grimace. 

She sullenly picks at her cereal, envisioning the life she had before The Incident. How she once just had a sweet and blissfully innocent crush on Ben, one that entailed only vague daydreams of what he might sound like with her, what he might do and say. Now, she has much more vivid memories to replace those ultimately tame and vanilla musings. Groans, grunts, solemn rushes of air, and muffled moans. She can hear it in her head perfectly, every sound, every slick slap of skin, every...

“...Rey?”

She looks up from her cereal bowl like she has been shot at. 

“What?”

“Geez, where have you been this morning?” Finn says, laughing. 

Rey doesn’t mean to look at Ben then. She has no rational reason for it, only that her eyes no longer seem to obey the commands from her brain. Or she really does have a deathwish. 

Ben offers her a shrug and though she looks away too quickly to really know for sure, he almost seems… secretly amused. 

“I guess I’m tired still,” she manages to croak out in some semblance of her normal voice. “Long night, cramming for finals. You know how it is.”

“Right, well. I am trying to get a supermajority ruling that Armie and Poe are long overdue for a romantic getaway. Somewhere that has thick walls, mind you, since they like to announce their passions to the entire world.”

“ _God,_ ” Rey says, shaking her head as she blushes. Can’t they talk about something else?

“What, it’s true! Oh, don't roll your eyes, Armitage. You know, the other night I thought someone was throwing a bag of cats against the wall next door until I realized it was you guys. I thought I was going to have to call animal control, or the police or something but nope - just my unbearably horny roommates again. Seriously, Armie you should get a ball gag or something…”

When Rey feels that the conversation has safely turned away from her, she gets up from the table and puts her dishes in the dishwasher. Armie and Finn are animatedly discussing the merits of ball gags, which of course leads to a whole other discussion about sex toys and the like, which is a topic Rey does not think she can handle whilst sitting not three feet away from the object of her _crime_ yesterday. 

Rey feels a pair of eyes on her as she leaves the room to go shower. When she turns back, Ben is peering at her from over his shoulder, that secretive, knowing smile still fixed in place. 

*

The second time it happens cannot be written off as an accident. Well, mostly because it is very much _not_ an accident. 

It's a Friday night, but instead of partying up at one of the local hipster pubs like any other self-respecting twenty year old, she's holed up in her bedroom, in a piss-poor attempt to finish her mountain of homework.

Instead of memorizing algebra equations and Newton's Law of Motion, she finds herself muddling through her predicament, as it is. 

Armie and Poe are away for a romantic getaway weekend, a ski trip out of the city. The vacation is a well-needed reprieve for the pair of them, so they can get away from what Armie terms as “the city bullshit”. He really isn’t meant for big cities, despite his larger than life personality, but Poe loves it here. Armie might complain about the traffic, the confusing and aberrantly late subway system, and the general bitchy air of NYC, he doesn’t hate it quite enough to put up much of a fight to leave. Probably because he is far too ridiculously in love with Poe Dameron to really notice much of anything else outside of that. 

Finn is visiting family out of state, which leaves Rey and Ben home alone for the weekend. And leaves her to said predicament. 

It is the first time they will have had the house to themselves since The Incident. Ben should be on his way home from his last class of the day and after that… They will be alone. In the house. Together. 

Rey cannot decide if this excites her, terrifies her, or makes her unbearably anxious. Probably all three. 

Everything has been normal in a strange, frustratingly and downright mysteriously _not-normal_ way. Ben has gotten her tea ready for her in the morning approximately - well, yes - every single day this week. He has not complained about her using all the hot water or clogging the drain, or anything else he normally complains about (which, really, is not that much at least where she is concerned). He _smiles_. At her. A lot. Not in a creepy way, and probably not all that much if one were to compare him to the rest of humanity because Ben Solo does not really do smiling, but it is still noticeable since he is doing it at all. He asked her how she was coming along in one of the essays for a class they attend together and he opened the front door for her yesterday when they were leaving for school. 

All in all, this behaviour is not strange in its own right, only that is it damned _suspicious_ coming from him. Which only leaves her with one possible explanation. 

He knows. 

He knows she heard him and he either feels so embarrassed about it that he is trying to kill her with kindness (when it should absolutely be the other way around), _or_ he feels bad for her. Because he had to have heard the floorboards squeaking when she moved. He had to have heard her walk in and shut the front door, which _means…_

Rey is sitting on her bed, a calculus textbook opened on her lap and her laptop sitting next to her. She has completely zoned out in the last five minutes, though to be fair, she has found herself zoning out quite often in the last week, thoughts preoccupied with one thing and one thing only. 

But something new has occurred to her now.

She looks outside without really seeing the pretty snowflakes coming down, or the glitter of city lights. The house unnaturally quiet with the boys not home - even the pipes have behaved themselves, though she wishes there was _some_ noise if only to distract her from her thoughts. Another possibility has occurred to her, one that she would normally dismiss as pure lunacy, but...

What if Ben _had_ known that she had walked through the door? Surely, he had heard the front door open and close, heard her kick her shoes off and putter around the kitchen before coming down the hallway. 

On the heels of this musing, the most delicious question of all occurs to her. She has to bite her lips from emitting some kind of sound because - it can’t be possible. Can it?

What if Ben had heard her - and he kept at it anyway? What if he had _known_ she could hear him? 

This line of thought leads her into brand new territory and she can’t help but find herself a little hopeful. Or a _lot_ hopeful. For one thing, this would make her far less of a pervert than she had been letting herself believe, and for another… If Ben really had wanted her to hear him, then she would be totally and completely on board for that. 

Rey eyes her bedroom door, then her textbook and homework, before sighing and throwing the book on the floor. There is a renewed ache in her core - she knows she will not be getting any homework done at this rate, so what is the point in holding up pretenses. She pushes her pants and panties down and brushes a hand down her hips and to the tidy thatch of hair between her legs. If this hypothesis is right, and that is a big if, she would love nothing more than for it to be Ben who makes her cum, but for now, she will have to settle for her own fingers. 

The real homework this weekend will be testing to see if she is right about Ben knowing she was there. With the boys gone away for the weekend, there really is no better time than now. 

Until then… 

Rey punches out a moan between her teeth, her fingers touching down on her clit and her memories playing on loop, until all she hears in her head is Ben’s voice, over and over again. 

_Rey, Rey, Rey, Rey, Rey._

*

When Ben gets home from classes, his black hair full of snowflakes and his long nose red from the cold, he comes bearing gifts. The best kind of gifts, really. 

Tacos. Delicious, greasy tacos. 

He asks if she wants to eat together and watch _Aliens_ (one of their all-time favourites), and she pretends the nerves in her stomach is just hunger. Not eagerness, or something silly like that. Normally, tacos and _Aliens_ would be a cause for one of Rey’s embarrassing Happy Dances - she seriously loves food probably more than is healthy, but Ben never seems to mind.

Tonight, she cannot even begin to think about food. She is nothing but nerves and adrenaline. As they sit on the couch together, she hopes against hope her experiment works out. 

After they settle into their dinner and movie, Rey begins to go over her plan once more. She is going to see if Ben does it again, hpoefully tonight, but at any point this weekend, really. This is strictly a _theory_ she is testing out because if he _does_ then… Well, she’ll cross that fuckable, redwood of a bridge when she gets to it. 

Or climb him, more likely. 

However, it takes Rey approximately one hour into the movie to almost entirely reverse course and decide that there is no _way_ Ben meant for her to hear him. Because this is _Ben_ for Christ’s sake. He is reserved, quiet, and just - how could she believe that he meant for her to hear him? That he would be _okay_ with being eavesdropped on like that? She is mental if she believes that. 

“Food okay?” Ben asks her, right when Lieutenant Hicks tells one of the other soldiers that he likes to keep his shotgun handy for close encounters. 

“Hmm?” Rey says, like the mature, educated and articulate adult that she is. She looks away from the television with a guilty start and - yep - she is fucking _blushing_ again. Of course. 

“You usually would have consumed the entire taco by now but you’ve barely touched it. Is it bad?” Ben gestures towards her still full plate and raises an eyebrow. 

Right. Food. She had forgotten all about the tacos when her stomach decided to rearrange itself into nervous knots. 

“Oh - no, it’s fine. I’m just… really into the movie.” Rey remembers briefly wanting to become an actress when she was in the tenth grade. She is reminded, right at this moment, why that had been a momentary dream and nothing else. 

She is about as convincing as the President’s bronzer. 

Ben looks at her for what feels like a long time. She struggles not to squirm and for one wild, hair-brained moment, she considers just telling him everything if only to rid herself of this awful tension. 

Thankfully, he turns away from her before she can pitch herself off the proverbial bridge, so to speak. 

“Okay,” he says, shrugging for good measure. 

Yep. Everything is okay. Just peachy. 

The rest of the movie seems to go by with infinite slowness, each scene a painful game of waiting to just get this all over with. Ben seems to sense her discomfort, throwing her small, surreptitious glances every so often, but he never says anything. 

At one point, he shifts closer to her on the couch. She holds her breath, waiting for him to do or say anything, to perhaps slyly throw an arm over her side of the couch, or to touch her leg…

But nothing. 

This is Ben, after all. She could never picture him making such bold a move, though she would greatly welcome it if he did. She does not _want_ to catch him masturbating to her again (even though she kind of, really does) and she does not _want_ to act like a total creep again (even though she knows she is absolutely going to) but he has given her no sign over the course of their year living together beyond the odd shy smile and a few infinitely kind gestures, such as buying and constructing new furniture for her bedroom. Even then, she can’t get confirmation that it was him and not the others. 

Nothing was set in stone until the day she walked into the house and heard him…

So, maybe she is crazy and perverted and a million other things, but if this is how she can confirm once and for all that Ben feels _anything_ for her beyond platonic friendship and there is even a slim chance that this is his way of telling her - then she is going to go for it. 

Soon, the movie ends and although Rey is disappointed when Ben departs with a quiet “goodnight” she feels determined.

She can do this. 

*

Rey very much cannot do this. 

She is a bundle of nerves as she sits on her bed and waits for Ben to be finished in the bathroom. She purposefully let him go first, listening to the sound of the shower running and then the tap turning on and off as he brushes his teeth. 

The plan is to let him use the bathroom, then have a quick shower to give him some time. She will then go to her room, and creep out into the hall a little while later to listen by his door. 

The more she thinks about it, the less sexy it sounds and the more it seems like the kind of criminal plan that would feature on a Dateline special. “College kid turned Peeping Mary” the tagline would say. She can see it now - her mugshot splashed across the television and newspapers. They would use her student ID photo of course. The one where she looks like Mike Tyson, about to bite someone’s ear off, only if he were a skinny, white girl who could stand to get some sun every once in a while rather than locking herself in the library studying all the livelong day. 

The bathroom door opens. She hears Ben’s feet padding down the hall. His bedroom door clicks shut and her stomach turns to lead. Now or never. Is she going to chicken out and do the morally right thing, or will she -?

Well, it probably doesn’t matter anyway. Because the moment - really the _second_ \- Ben’s door closes, she is on her feet and grabbing her bathrobe before she has time to rethink anything. She goes into the bathroom, pulls in a pacifying breath and then turns on the shower. Nothing illegal about showering right? It’s not a part of a premeditated scheme to see if her best friend and roommate is jerking it off to her again. 

She hurries through her shower, taking a moment to clean all her bits just in case. 

_This is an experiment,_ she reminds herself. _Don’t get ahead of yourself._

Rey gets ahead of herself anyway because that seems to be the fucked up theme of everything lately. A few minutes later, she turns off the shower, wondering if it has been long enough. She tries to do all the things she usually does; towelling off, drying her hair a little, brushing her teeth and all that rot. She _tries_ to take her time, not rush and get all nervous even though she is shaking a little. 

When she is done, she looks at herself in the fogged-up mirror.

Ben probably didn’t know she was home that day. He definitely didn’t know she was listening and even if he did, he is just being nice now to make things normal between them again. Even if she hears something tonight, or tomorrow, surely he has no idea that she is listening to him again. 

These are the things Rey tells herself, to be rational and prepared. To not get disappointed. 

She is still telling herself these things, like a soothing mantra on repeat, when she puts her bathrobe back on and opens the bathroom door. Just as she clicks off the bathroom light, she is still telling herself that it won’t mean anything if she comes out later and he _is_ doing… that again. She is still reminding herself not to get her hopes up, that her little crush is likely only ever going to be just that when she hears it. 

Rey pauses in the hallway, her breath getting caught in her throat and her heart stopping before _slamming_ in her chest.

She flounders, unsure where to go, what to do, how to fucking breathe properly because she can most definitely and assuredly hear what is very much and evidently the sound of Ben panting in his room. She reaches up a trembling hand to cover her mouth - not to stifle laughter or anything like that - but to quiet her own breathing. The bedsprings squeak and then Ben heaves a torrid little moan into what she is very much convinced is his bicep. The very biceps she was mooning over during breakfast earlier this week. 

Then:

“ _F-fuck,_ ” he spits out in what is decidedly a not _Ben_ way of speaking. While he is clearly trying to be quiet - but really not quiet at all - the definitive growl that laces this word goes right into Rey’s suddenly and _soppingly_ wet cunt. 

_Oh my god,_ she thinks, hysterical and winded and… fucking ecstatic really. 

Because she did not have to wait for thirty, or even fifteen minutes to creep back into the hallway to listen outside his door. She made it only two steps outside the bathroom and already he is in there, right now. And he is…

Grunting, low and deep. 

Slowly and with great care, Rey tiptoes a little closer, trying to recall which floorboards squeak the loudest. She is not ready for him to know she is out here, even though he _must_ know she never made it to her bedroom. This feels like a game they are playing and when her pussy throbs in a sweet pulse, she decides she wants to play a little longer. She stops a few feet away from his door, miraculously not making a sound (though her silence must be highly suspicious to him in its own right). She barely has time to stifle a moan into the palm of her hand when she hears the wet slap of skin against skin.

Is he… using lube this time? 

He must be. The sound is much louder than the first time she caught him doing this. Wet and filthy, she can picture it perfectly in her mind's eye; his fingers and palm slick against himself, his length gleaming with lubricant. Ben groans roughly, picking up the pace as the slick sounds get louder and quicker. 

Rey feels like she cannot get enough air. She pants in time with him, albeit more quietly. She is bare underneath her robe and when her nipples brush against the soft, thin cotton of her robe, she has to bite on her fingers to smother any sounds she might make. 

“ _Mmmmmf-fuck. Yes, just like that,_ ” he groans. The wet sounds change a little, becoming louder, slicker, and she is suddenly convinced that he is using _two_ hands to jerk himself off. Is he really that big? God, he would just stretch her out so perfectly. 

She can practically feel him now, deep inside her. An ache that just won’t go away. She parts her robe with a shaking hand, biting down on her arm to stay quiet. She finds the lips of her cunt slick and moist. 

In his room, Ben moans brokenly. She chokes back a responding whimper, working her fingers over her clit faster, harder. Should she go in there now? Should she just end this little game they’re playing and climb on top of his bed, into his lap and impale herself on him?

But still, she does not move. She needs to know for sure, she needs…

“ _Fuck baby. I need you so bad… you’re so fucking tight, baby. So perfect for me._ ”

She is practically sobbing with need after he says those fervid words. She never knew, in her wildest dreams, that Ben could talk like that, that he could _sound_ like that, all raspy and deep and on the edge of pure need. 

She inches closer to his door. Maybe the floorboards creak, but she can’t hear anything beyond the blood rushing in her ears and those sounds, those _dirty, lovely, filthy_ sounds coming out of Ben’s mouth. 

“ _Rey… please…_ ”

She is almost at this door, so close to cumming that it actually _hurts._ Her hand is outstretched towards his doorknob and she is about to make that last step forward, riddled with indecision and longing when she - 

A loud, metallic _clanging_ fills the hallway. 

Rey stumbles forward a step, tripping over something hard and cold. She bumps into Ben’s bedroom door hard enough to rattle the door in its frame. When she lets out a startled “fuck!” she does not even realize it, so great is her confusion and shock.

Then, she looks down. 

Something round and silver reflects back to her in the dim light of the corridor. She squints at the object, mindlessly rubbing at her chest where her heart is hammering away and realizes it is a pot and pot lid. She had not even noticed they were there, what with the darkness in the hallway and her total absorption over the sounds coming from Ben's room -

Oh god. Oh _fuck, fuck, fuck._ Ben. 

Rey does not have time to begin to wonder what in the blue fuck a pot was doing there, or to even skitter back to her bedroom because there are quick footsteps pounding across Ben's bedroom.

The door flies open, illuminating the corridor and a madly blushing Rey in a weak lamplight. 

She imagines she looks rather startled, even though she absolutely should not be, to find Ben Solo standing in the doorway, _staring_ at her.


	3. Blush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her face is red. Tomato-esq, if she could hazard a guess. She has been caught. Well and truly caught. The expression on Ben’s face is inscrutable, which of course does nothing for the nettle of nerves in her stomach. 
> 
> Then, Rey does a double-take. 
> 
> Ben is standing in his doorway in nothing but a towel. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter update, but I really wanted this to just be about them being together this chap. Next chap will be somewhat of an Epilogue. 
> 
> Enjoy your Friday porn and Happy Halloween weekend!

Her face is red. Tomato-esq, if she could hazard a guess. She has been caught. Well and truly caught. The expression on Ben’s face is inscrutable, which of course does nothing for the nettle of nerves in her stomach. 

Then, Rey does a double-take. 

Ben is standing in his doorway in nothing but a towel. 

Her brain short circuits and her cunt gives an involuntary spasm. There is - so  _ much _ skin. Pale, creamy, beauty-mark speckled skin. There are  _ lines _ , dips and valleys, carved with unerring precision. Chiselled abs, the wide,  _ firm  _ pads of his chest, shoulders that look like they could carry the world on them (and would look really good, in her humble opinion, with her legs thrown over them). 

He is not too muscular, but just enough that Rey finds herself at a complete loss for words. 

Where the hell has he been hiding all this? She is going to have a bonfire and burn all of his hoodies. Better yet, she’ll make it a rule; he has to be in only a towel at all times. Though she will never get anything done if that’s the case. 

Oh well, who needs an education anyway? High paying jobs are overrated and she read somewhere that your life expectancy is higher if -

“Rey?”

Her eyes jump back to his; or at least she means to meet his gaze, but then she is staring at the way his chest is heaving as though he has just raced a mile. His hair is in deliciously wild disarray and his eyes dark and rapt on her. She can see the outrageously noticeable tent in his towel which only confirms what she already suspected. 

Benjamin Solo is every bit as proportionate as she thought he would be. 

She must look like a complete idiot. She wants to say something. Desperately. But the words won’t come out. 

Ben shifts on his feet, his lips parted. 

And it is all too telling, isn’t it, that she was standing outside his door the entire time? That even now, she cannot drag her eyes away from that noticeable bulge in his towel, not even when Ben makes a sound in his throat. Her pussy gives another throb and she shifts her thighs as covertly as she can manage. He takes a small step towards her and her eyes fly up to meet his. She thinks she opens her mouth to apologize. 

Maybe. Maybe not. 

But Ben is looking from where her thighs are most definitely and obviously shifting together, then back up at her face. His lips fold together then, his head tilted at her as though she is a deeply complex differential equation he has to solve in exactly ten seconds. 

“I…” Rey sputters but her mind is blank. There are no words for this because what if she was wrong, what if she…

But she probably isn’t wrong. Definitely, not. 

Because then, Ben drops the hand holding his towel up and before she can get a complete eye full of his very hard, very  _ large  _ cock, he is taking up her entire vision, her entire world. His hand comes up to cup her cheek and then his mouth  _ crashes  _ into hers, stealing her breath and sanity in one fell swoop. 

Rey moans and leans into him, opening her lips for him in approximately two seconds. He groans appreciatively, tongue sweeping into her mouth in a heady, firm rhythm that is quickly making her lose any notion of rational thought. 

He pulls away before she can deepen it and then he is smiling down at her, in that barely there, utterly  _ Ben  _ sort of way. She finds her heart beating staccato for an entirely different reason. He reaches down to undo the loose knot of her bathrobe and when the soft fabric falls away he is already leaning down to kiss her, with only four words rumbled between his plying, earth-shattering kisses. 

“There. Now we’re even.”

She might muster a response, but it is already drowned out between Ben’s lips. Her breasts press against the sweaty plains of his chest and she moans brokenly, nipples sensitive and aching. His hand fans across her lower back and then sweeps down to squeeze her ass. Her mind spins out of control - she cannot make sense of anything beyond the cage of his arms. This is Ben, right? The same Ben who could hardly look her in the eye for the first six months of living together?

But how can it be, when  _ this  _ Ben is grabbing and squeezing and  _ fondling  _ her ass with such assuredness, she can only whine in a way she will find embarrassing later. His cock is hot and hard against her stomach, weeping precum across her skin. She presses closer on instinct, delighting in his delicious little moan. 

Her hands are in his hair, curling around those wavy locks she has always wanted to touch. Another hypothesis is proven; his hair is ridiculously soft and she presses closer on instinct, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck and nipping his full lower lip. 

She doesn’t know when it happened, but suddenly his hands are on the back of her thighs and then she is hoisted up against him, legs wrapping around his waist like this is the most natural thing in the world for them to be doing. The bedroom door slams shut behind them as he carries her into his room, but she doesn’t pause to look. She is sweeping her tongue into his mouth now, trembling against him and making soft, needy little sounds when he sucks on the tip of her tongue. She is certain he can feel how ready she is. How wet she has gotten for him. 

“Fuck,” he breathes against her and then his hand is on his her ass again, fingers digging and caressing until she is just a shaking mess against him. “You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted this, Rey.”

She moans against him as though to say  _ oh, I do know how badly, thank you very much.  _ Carding her fingers through his hair, she squeaks when he suddenly deposits her on his bed. She bounces lightly, tits jiggling fetchingly under his dark regard. 

Then, he just stands at the foot of bed, breathing harshly and pupils blown wide as he stares down at her. His cock twitches with his heartbeat, painfully hard against his stomach. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to see you like this.” He gives a rough stroke to his cock, the muscles in his chest and stomach tensing. “But you’re here now. Really here. In my room, on my bed…”

Rey reclines into the blankets, her nipples pebbling and goosebumps lighting up across her skin. She bites her lip as she looks up at him, at his  _ body  _ \- god they really need to have a house discussion about where the hell he has been hiding all  _ that  _ \- but she knows she wouldn’t care if he was a beanpole, or overweight. 

He would still be beautiful to her, regardless. Still the same mysterious and thoughtful Ben she has come to know over the last year, the same Ben she has fallen completely and madly…

“Come here,” she whispers to him in the darkness of his bedroom. “I can’t wait any longer, Ben.”

He makes a sound, low in his throat, and then with almost comical eagerness, he leaps on the bed to her delighted giggles. He scales up her body and the smile he gives her then, suspended above her on arms as thick as her goddamned  _ thighs _ , is sweet and wondering. She doesn’t know what to do with herself or that smile, so she does the only other thing she can think of. 

She leans up and kisses him. 

He moans into her mouth and then they rapidly go from sweet to something else - burning against each other, on fire with plying kisses sweeping tongues and deep, guttural groaning. His cock brushes against her entrance and she cants her hips on instinct, needing him there. She cups her breast in one large hand and the other slides down to her hips, pinning her to the bed with little effort. 

He draws away from her lips to pepper kisses along her cheek and jaw, and she pulls on his hair again to get his attention. She doesn’t need foreplay - not right now. She just needs him inside her. Already, when she was standing outside his bedroom door, when she did not know the depth of his want for her - not for certain, she had been so close. Dangling on the edge of release, listening to the filthy little sounds he made as he pleasured himself. If he doesn’t start fucking her hard and deep in the next ten seconds, she’s going to burst into tiny little atoms. 

Ben draws away to peer down at her and she cants her hips again, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth and hazel eyes sparkling with desperation. 

“Ask me, Rey,” he breathes at her, though she can feel his restraint slipping too. Can feel the way he trembles above her, cock resting just outside her slippery cunt. 

“Fuck me, Ben,” she keens at him. “ _ Please,  _ I’ll-”

But he doesn’t need to hear any more apparently. 

He leans down to lick into her mouth, and then there is pressure. Stretching. Accommodating. He is  _ big _ and while she’s not a virgin, it is still a tight fit. She bucks against him breathlessly, trying to vent this feeling somewhere, when his hand presses down on her hip again and then she is completely at his mercy. He slides in one slow, overwhelming stretch. Teeth nipping her jaw, her chin, and everywhere else he can reach. 

When he is fully pressed against her, pelvis flush against hers, they both moan in acknowledgement. He is everywhere inside her - there isn’t a sliver of room left. 

“You’re so fucking  _ tight _ . Feels so  _ good _ , baby.”

Rey only has time to moan at the endearment, her pussy clenching and a loud moan tearing from her lips when suddenly - 

“ _ Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, _ ” she keens, gasping for her climax and fingernails digging into his shoulders. He moans above her helplessly, grinding his hips through her aftershocks. Stars explode behind her eyes and when the pressure begins to lessen, when she can fucking think again, she whimpers, “Oh… Ben.”

Ben seems to lose all vestiges of patience. His face is red, lined with sweat, and just when she pulls in a breath, he withdraws from her - and then  _ slams  _ his hips into her, hard enough to rock her entire body. Her cunt spasms and she cries out hoarsely, only for him to do it  _ again _ . Soon, he is pumping his hips in a staggered, rough rhythm, jolting her body with each heady thrust. 

“Fuck Rey,” he groans against her face, chest expanding with whooping breaths as he pounds into her. She does her best to meet his furious thrusts in her state, bringing her legs up to wrap around his hips so he goes deeper. He moans brokenly when she does this, and his entire body shudders as his rhythm begins to lose fluidity. 

“Come inside me Ben,” Rey moans, kissing his cheek, his nose and then his mouth. 

He draws away, too out of breath to keep kissing her and then that sweet smile from before returns. 

“Is that what you want, baby?” He rasps at her in a deepened rasp that goes right to her pussy. 

“ _ Yes _ ,” she whimpers brokenly. 

With a tremulous growl, he leans up on his forearms and his thrusts are _shattering_ , slamming into her over and over again before he  _ roars _ his orgasm. He grinds into through each pump of cum and normally she asks guys to pull out. It’s messy and she hates dealing with it afterwards, but now… 

His cum is suddenly all she wants. 

She watches the way his face screws up with pleasure, his eyebrows drawing together and those plush lips parted as he groans and gasps his way through his orgasm. Then, when it’s over, he hesitates above her, like he wants to drop on top of her, but isn’t sure.

Rey pulls at his shoulders and then he collapses on her. 

“Am I crushing you?” he grunts into her ear. She smiles when she realizes he is trembling - that she did that to him. 

“No,” she whispers into his hair. “It’s nice.”

He huffs a breath and then nods, turning his head to press a kiss into her cheek. They stay like that for a long time, with him still buried inside her and his body weight a reassuring warmth, smothering her lovely. 


	4. She's A Rainbow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She has never really felt like this before, though she knows second-hand all the symptoms. Perhaps that should terrify her, but she has never felt more peaceful than she does right now. Naked under the soft cotton sheets, her legs tangled with his and his nose pressed against her sternum. Can he feel what he has done to her, underneath that tender skin and bone?
> 
> Because she can. 
> 
> It’s too soon, she tells herself, warningly. 
> 
> Maybe, another voice, louder and clearer than the words of her self-doubt, pipes up. Or maybe all those odds stacked against you are finally evening out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, this started as a crack-fic and kind of turned into something completely different on me. This really is a story about Rey and her boys, with a healthy dose of porn. 
> 
> Anywho, hoped you enjoyed this mini-fic. It was fun to write and I hope to do more like this soon! 
> 
> <3

The house is quiet when Rey awakes. The kind of quiet that one experiences when they live in the Northern hemisphere of the planet. When snow muffles the outside noise and everything is still. Beholden to wintry delights. 

She remembers waking up in foster homes to mornings like this. The quiet never lasted long, back then, but nothing really lasted in those dull, dark days. She often shared a bedroom with at least three other girls. They stole her possessions if only to give themselves temporary reprieve from their own personal hells. 

She does not hate those girls. Not anymore. They were all trying to survive back then. 

What Rey cannot reconcile is the little girl - who lived in those make-belief homes, where the foster parents were glorified security guards and the walls, floors and ceilings were glorified prison cells - with the young woman lying in this bed right now. 

In this bed that is not hers, but could be. If she plays her cards right. To this glorious mop of black hair and the lightly snoring form that is Ben Solo. Just looking at him in the calm, half-light of morning, where there are no colours, only varying shades of pale blue and dove’s gray makes her heart give a gentle patter and her stomach twist with anticipation. 

She has never really felt like this before, though she knows second-hand all the symptoms. Perhaps that should terrify her, but she has never felt more peaceful than she does right now. Naked under the soft cotton sheets, her legs tangled with his and his nose pressed against her sternum. Can he feel what he has done to her, underneath that tender skin and bone?

Because she can. 

_It’s too soon,_ she tells herself, warningly. 

_Maybe,_ another voice, louder and clearer than the words of her self-doubt, pipes up. _Or maybe all those odds stacked against you are finally evening out._

She can sense it, the moment Ben wakes up. His slow exhale, the way he rubs his nose into her skin like he is waking from a dream. Hopefully about her. 

Rey presses her face into his hair, smiling a little because she already knows the answer before she asks it. 

“Ben,” she whispers and when he kisses her chest, her smile widens. “You bought me the dresser and the bed. You put that all together for when I got back from the funeral… didn’t you?”

And when he rolls on top of her approximately five seconds later, silencing her with his lips and tongue, she feels his answering smile against her own, she knows the odds might have shifted to her favour after all. 

*

The snowbanks are almost as tall as the doorway by the time the boys return from their respective vacations. Rey is wearing one of Ben’s hoodies, her short-shorts and her favourite pair of toe-socks (which, incidentally, completely gross Poe out). 

She is sitting on one of the barstools at the kitchen table. Well, mostly. She’s kind of leaning against Ben, not quite in his lap, but not quite fully seated on her chair either. His arm is curled around her shoulders, like this is the most natural thing in the world. They’re having breakfast, even though it’s well past noon. 

She figures they’ve earned it after the weekend they had. 

Neither of them has left Ben’s bed much besides to go grab some rations from the kitchen, to use the bathroom, or to shower. Though the latter was together, so Rey is not really sure that counts for anything. Her face hurts from smiling so much and whenever she peers over at Ben, she catches this small, crooked grin on his face that makes her burn hot for him all over again. She cannot believe it took them this long to finally admit how they feel for each other. That it took an elaborate and hair-brained scheme - on both their parts - for them to just finally say it. 

Sometime this morning, long after she had woken up with Ben pressing his cock inside her and pressing hectic kisses to her shoulder, they had stopped having sex long enough to have an actual conversation. 

_That pot in the hallway. Right outside your door. Was that -_

_Ah. Yes. I was getting a little desperate there._

_So you what - set up a boobytrap? It worked beautifully, might I add._

_Didn’t it?_

_And… last week. When I got home from classes and… You heard me then too?_

_A little bit. Yeah._

_Weren’t you mad at me?_

_Fuck no. I was fucking mortified at first but then -_

_Breakfast the next day. I knew you knew._

_Yeah. You’re really pretty when you blush, by the way._

_Um, thank you. But Ben… why didn’t you just say something?_

_Why didn’t you?_

Idiots, the both of them. Pure stupidity. But it worked out in the end. 

“ _Hellllllloooooo_!” Poe shouts into the foyer. 

Rey stiffens against Ben, but before she aims her worried glance at him, he squeezes her shoulder reassuringly. 

“They’re going to lose it,” she whispers to him. 

“Are you kidding? They’re going to fucking celebrate.” Ben is grinning wistfully as he takes another spoonful of his cereal. 

“What does that mean?” 

He glances at her fleetingly and then his cheeks turn pink. Rey squints at him in suspicion. 

“Do they… know?”

“What? No! Poe might know that I have a huge crush on you, but I didn’t tell them anything about last week. Or this weekend.” Ben takes care to keep his voice down - but not too much. He seems so damned _chill_ with everything that she can hardly recognize him. 

Rey goes on squinting at him, but then Ben leans over to peck her on the mouth and she promptly forgets to be suspicious about anything. 

“Um, hello? Anyone home?” Poe calls to them again from the front door, sounding a trifle irritable at their lack of greeting. 

“Yeah, yeah. We’re home you dolt,” Ben calls back to him in typical grumpy fashion. 

Rey smirks at her plate. 

Poe and Armie have not rounded the corner yet and even though Ben gives her a reassuring smile, she can’t help but feel nervous. What will they think? Did they know all along, were they so blatantly obvious to everyone but themselves? Will they be shocked? Horrified? 

Maybe she shouldn’t care so much. 

“Should we - you know - say something?” Rey whispers to him. She can hear Armie and Poe wrestling their luggage through the door and suddenly she is filled with equal measures of anxiety and giddiness. 

Ben pauses with his spoon of wheaties by his mouth and aims an uncharacteristically mischievous smirk her way. 

“Nah. Let’s see how long it takes them to notice anything.”

Rey grins back at him. 

She is beginning to learn, quite quickly and _thoroughly_ , that Ben is not as innocent as he seems. That he has, in more ways than one, startled her speechless quite a few times in the last forty-eight hours. 

_Where the hell have you been hiding this away_? 

That, she had finally gotten the nerve to ask him about too; his eight-pack, his ridiculously toned thighs and arms. His deliciously thick cock. 

_I have weights in here._

_So you do._

_And I jog to school most days._

_But… how have I not noticed that until… until... Ben I - mmmph. D-don’t stop._

By that point, he had rolled over on top of her and started sucking on her nipples, effectively cutting off any more questions about his fitness routine and ruining her for all rational thought for the rest of the day. 

Thinking about it now, Rey hides a sheepish smile into her cereal. 

“We brought presents!” Poe exclaims, his loud, strong voice proceeding him into the kitchen. 

“Well, I wouldn’t call the shampoo you stole off the maid’s cart “presents”, babe,” Armie mutters, though he doesn’t really bother to keep his voice down. 

“Semantics. You know they overcharge for those rooms anyways. A little shampoo won’t bankrupt them and besides - _oh_. What do we have here?” 

Poe pauses at the threshold of the kitchen, promptly leaving his luggage in the middle of the hallway for Armie to trip over and leaning against the doorframe with the biggest shit-eating grin Rey has ever seen. 

She flushes. 

“How was your trip?” Ben asks casually, like it is no big deal that his hand is resting just underneath the shoulder of Rey’s - _his_ \- hoodie. He starts stroking her shoulder in a way that makes her go even redder. 

Poe stares at them, his eyes positively twinkling with smugness. 

“Eventful. I taught Armie how to ski.”

“Liar. You refused to go down any hills bigger than the bunny hill and even then - oh, um. Well. Hello.”

Now, it is Armie’s turn to neglect his luggage and he aims a gobsmacked look at Rey before his lips quirk in a sly grin. There is snow melting in their hair and Armie’s nose is so red, he could light Santa’s way all the way from the North Pole if wanted to. 

Then, the front door opens again. 

A moment later, Finn curses so loudly, Rey nearly jumps out of her skin. 

“ _Poe_! Damn you, we bought a shoe rack for a reason. I just stepped in a huge puddle of cold water!” 

Rey glances at Ben, all but trying to fold herself against his side in the hopes she might evaporate on the spot. Armie is beaming at them and Poe looks giddy, his entire body vibrating as he shouts back down the hallway to Finn. 

“Dude! You need to come to the kitchen.”

Finn grumbles the entire way down the hallway and when he rounds the corner, still dressed in a thick winter jacket, he does not appear to notice how red Rey has gotten, or the way Ben’s hand slides down from her shoulder to her waist. 

“What is it? Did Rey clog the sink again or -?”

“Really,” Armie deadpans. 

“Absolutely hopeless,” Poe mutters to his boyfriend without looking away from Finn. 

“Told you he’s just a pretty face,” Ben chimes in. 

Rey elbows him and he holds his hands up in surrender. 

“What are you… talking… about…” Finn trails off. He stares from Rey to Ben and then back again. 

“How was your weekend?” Rey asks in an unnaturally high voice. 

“Wait…” Finn says, holding up a finger to point at them both. 

Rey covers her face with her hands and looks down at her plate. 

“There it is,” Poe says, clapping Finn on the back. 

“Did you - fucking hell, it’s about time!” Finn exclaims. 

Rey peeks sideways at Ben from within her hands and he only shrugs at her with the innocence of a cat who got the cream. 

*

_**10 Years Later** _

“I hate this.”

“It’s only going to be for like twenty minutes max.”

“Have you ever spoken to a crowd of two hundred people for twenty minutes straight?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. And so did you, for our orbital mechanics dissertation.”

“Yeah, well… it helps that I had you to look at the entire time.”

“You will have me to look at this time too.”

“I still want it on record that I protested heavily.”

“Noted.”

Rey straightens Ben’s tie and gives him a deathly glare when he goes to adjust it. She has had to retie the damn thing ten times already. He really is just a pile of nerves when he gets like this. In his hands, a badly mangled piece of paper is fisted there, folded and refolded about a couple hundred times in the last hour alone. 

Nerves. This mighty, tall man is just a nervous wreck. 

And she loves him all the more for it. 

“I don’t get why he picked me.” Ben stares at his reflection in the long mirror by their dresser with a glum frown. Upstairs, Finn can be heard demanding where his mascara has vanished to and then Armie’s crisp “it wasn’t my goddamned turn to watch it” can be heard quite clearly in reply. 

“Are you serious? Of course Poe picked you.” She leans up on her tippy toes to kiss him and he gets distracted long enough from his nerves to kiss her back. She draws away just enough to smile up at him, and even now after all these years, she can see what that does to him. 

She can’t believe she didn’t see it that first night, in the hospital room. But they had been such idiots back then.

They’ve gotten better at this over the years. 

“You’re going to be great, Ben. Really.”

His hand goes to the small of her back, pressing her up and against him so he can kiss her once more. When his hand slides down to her ass, cinching the thin material of her long red gown, she draws back with a giggle and pinches his bicep. 

“What?” he murmurs in the low tone that his attempt to sound innocent when it is anything but. 

“Not now,” she giggles against his mouth. “I’m pretty sure I heard Finn’s mom in the living room - unless you want her to walk in on us again and explain the merits of safe sex.”

Ben draws back with a groan and murmurs, “All right. Point taken.”

Out back, their backyard is filled with twinkling lights, dozens of rented chairs and a set of kettledrums that Poe absolutely insisted on having for the ceremony. The guests have already started arriving; she can hear them in the kitchen and outside in their tastefully landscaped backyard. It looks better now that it doesn’t resemble the set of _Jurassic Park_ , even if it did cost the five of them a pretty penny to get it redone. 

They’ve all owned the house together now for almost ten years. Rey and her boys. 

It wasn’t always perfect and idyllic. There was a year when Armie moved back to England and they had to make Poe go to AA, he was so broken afterwards. There was that time Finn got really sick and they all took turns bringing him to chemo. That was the scariest year of Rey’s life, but then he had pulled through in typical beautiful and flamboyant fashion. Ben got offered a job at NASA after they graduated and although Rey had been sure that was the end of it, that he would leave her for a career with endless possibilities, he had stayed. To be with her. They’ve had funerals here, they spent a year on lockdown when the world went topsy turvy and a terrifying virus broke out across the city. They’ve gone to Pride every year (there was even one year when Rey, Finn and Ben got hammered on Fool’s Blight and had a very interesting, exploratory night together that they’ve all sworn never to mention to anyone, on pain of death). 

Armie moved back, of course. Poe got over his alcoholism. Finn is healthier than - well, probably all of them combined. And Rey and Ben are… happy. Ridiculously, hopelessly _gone_ for each other. 

They’ve cried in this house, loved in this house, screamed and drank until they puked and even dropped acid one time, which resulted in a very interesting call to the fire department when Rey climbed on the roof and would not come down, convinced that there were carnivorous Porgs all over their living room. 

And now, they are going to have a wedding in this house. 

Right on cue, Poe comes barging into their bedroom (what used to be just Rey’s bedroom). He is dressed in an impeccable charcoal suit and has a beautiful purple rose in his pocket. He looks frightfully pale and Rey just - _watches_ the effortless way Ben stows away his own nerves about his Best Man speech and wraps a comforting arm over Poe’s shoulders. 

“Guys,” Poe whispers. He turns back to the door and closes it gently so they cannot be overheard. 

“What is it?” Rey asks gently. 

He takes her hand gratefully, looking like he might puke just then. 

“What if…” He pulls in a deep breath and when he looks up at them, there are tears in his eyes. 

“You’re not going to fuck this up,” Ben tells him firmly. He leans down so their gazes are level and Rey melts a little at the care in his eyes. Because that is who he is to them - who he has always been. Their caretaker. Quiet, unassuming and a downright curmudgeon at times, but he is their watcher all the same. “I mean it, Poe. You’re going to be a great husband. And so is Armie.”

“Really,” Rey whispers to him, smiling encouragingly. 

Poe squeezes her hand and then nods, beyond speech. A first, as far as she knows. 

“Okay?” Ben says, smiling a little himself. 

“Yeah, okay,” Poe says. He wipes his face and then shakes himself, all that insatiable charisma and charm reasserting itself. “Alright, let’s get this fucking show on the road, shall we?”

“That’s the spirit,” Ben says with a laugh. 

When Poe isn’t looking, Rey winks at Ben and he winks right back at her. 

*

The archway is a rainbow, which Rey thinks is perfect. The white lights make her two best friends appear ethereal just then. So utterly handsome that she does not know what to do with herself. 

“Do you take this man, in sickness and in health, til death do you part?”

“I do,” Armie says and there isn’t a trace of his typical dourness. Not one bit. 

Tears fall freely down her face and on either side of her, Ben and Finn take her hands and squeeze. 

Poe smiles at the love of his life and makes his own vows. After, he aims a self-deprecatory grin at Ben and he gives him the thumbs up in response. 

And when Armie and Poe kiss, the applause is shattering. Through the din, though, a low voice whispers in her ear, “love you, babe” and then she is looking at Ben, at the suspicious gleam in his eyes and she is murmuring back to him, against his cheek and lips, into their shared air. 

Nothing has ever felt more right than this, in their home, with her boys.


End file.
